15/04/2026
What time is it? 3:16
Bay was a chunky baby... it wasn't her fault, though. We were new to parenting and we fell head first into calamity over common sense.
And no... this isn't the continuation of the story of her birth. This is just a short side step. Come back tomorrow and I'll finish the story about her birth. If you missed, the first two segments, be sure to scroll back... I think you'll enjoy it.
Anyway... Bay was a chunky baby.
A few weeks after she was born the doctor suggested to us that she was underweight. He advised that we needed to wake her up every four hour and feed her... twenty four hours a day. Every four hours... twenty four hours a day. So, we did... for a couple of months, until exhaustion and common sense set it.
No doubt, it was grueling for Hannah because she was breastfeeding. I would get up, at times, and try to get Bay up in advance, or do other things to show sympathy support for Hannah... but the fact of the matter was, she lost a couple of months worth of sleep during that time.
Bay didn't necessarily want to eat all those times either. We'd put cold rags on her belly to wake her up if she fell sleep. We'd put cold hands on her cheeks, tickle her ears... all sorts of tricks to get her to wake back up, and keep eating. Poor child just wanted to sleep and we were force feeding her... baby waterboarding... somebody should have called DHR! Slowly, but surely, she converted from a slightly underweight baby to a portly little chunk. She was cute as a button, and her portly appearance only complimented her very pleasant personality... she smiled a lot, and laughed, and wanted to interact. She was sweet back then.... 😉
After she gained a little weight and a few little fat roles, Hannah kept feeding her on demand, but we relaxed the grueling schedule that deprived everyone of sleep.
And then it started...
"Come here," Hannah said. Walking towards her she asked me "do you smell anything funny?" I didn't. A few hours later, the same question was posed... again, with the same answer. I suggested Bay had gas, or maybe had burped, and went on about my business.
The next day... "do you smell that?" "I don't smell anything," came my reply. "Its Bay. She stinks," Hannah inserted.
She then laid Bay down on the bed and began systematically searching her. Diaper? Clean. Underarms? Okay. Breath? Good. (She did pause at this point to reflect on how sweet a baby's breath always smells... and she was right.). Feet? Nothing there. "What is it," she exasperated.
In a scene reminiscent of The Twilight Zone, Hannah stuck her nose to Bay's toes... and like an ant eater working the ground near an ant hill, Hannah sniffed every inch of Bay's tiny little body. "I don't remember reading this in the Parenting for Dummies book," I quipped. "Shut up and get over here and help me, you dummy," came her quick witted reply. So, as any good father would do... I too bent over and started sniffing.
"You know they will put us in the asylum if someone walks in right now?" She didn't stop... sniff, sniff, sniff, she persisted. I followed suit. Like a beagle tracking a rabbit, she tracked up Bay's leg and into her bellybutton... Bay giggled at all of the attention and smiled as wide as the mouth of the Mississippi. She has a beautiful smile, even today... it is one of the things that draws people to her.
Hannah made her way across Bay's belly... meanwhile, I was still sniffing her other leg reluctantly. Mom's somehow overcome the feeling of "stupid" that attaches itself to acts of parenting much faster than dads. "This is stupid," I said begrudgingly. With her nose stuck in Bay's armpit, Hannah lifted her forehead, made sinister eye contact with me, and without saying a word she let me know that I could sniff or die.
Sniff, sniff, sniff. I made my choice.
Then, like Lincoln went he finally finds the scent of the deer we are trailing... his gate intensifies and his tug at the leash becomes overpowering... Hannah's sniff intensified and I could sense her weight shifting on the bed. Sniff, sniff, sniff, sniff... she was on to something. I sat up and watched. She was in the fat rolls on Bays neck... she drew a deep, long sniff... and then she lurched away from Bay in a convulsing motion. I though she was going to throw up.
Catching her breath, she placed her hands on Bay's neck and began to spread the fat rolls apart. One, clear. Two, clear. Three... "Oh, gracious. That smells horrible." My gaga reflex kicked in.... Hannah leaned in and sniffed little... again, convulsing away.
"Breast milk! It's where breast milk settled into her fat rolls and soured!" By now I've stood up from the bed... "I think I'm going to throw up! I'm France!!! I surrender! I surrender" and I ran out of the bedroom! Hannah muttered something as I fled... I'm sure it was something about what a strong and courageous man I was.
But she hung in there like a hair in one of Brenda's biscuits... soap, warm water... the royal spa treatment. Hannah searched every fat roll on Bay's body and she fleshed out every stray piece of lint she could find, and cleaned that baby like a new dime.
And embarrassing though it is, to admit that we somehow let milk sour in our baby's fat rolls... it makes for a great illustration too. For you see, no matter how bad that Bay stunk, we loved her. No matter how dirty she was, we weren't giving up on her. And even though I retreated... I knew she was in good hands... unfailing hands... the best hands.
A mother's love should be unconditional. So should a father's. Hannah's is... mine is too.
So is His. And that's the illustration... All we have to do is confess, repent and call
him Father. God loves His children. so much that He sees past all the dirt and the sourness of bad decisions... and He sees the sparkling clean new baby that we all are. Trust Him... He won't every leave you or forsake you. He loves you too much... even when we stink.
Deuteronomy 31:6
"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.”
John 3:16
"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life."
I hope you have a blessed day... and I hope you smile when He brushes your cheek today.
If you enjoyed this story, call 18000-361-8059 and order a copy of my newest book, It’s Sunday Morning. You’ll love it too. Please LIKE, SHARE and COMMENT! Link in the comments below!
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